


Silver Needle [Hannibal x Reader! Insert]

by Tanuki_Ghost



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mentions of Death, Oneshot, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Suggestive Themes, mentions of cannibalism, reader slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 12:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5967991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanuki_Ghost/pseuds/Tanuki_Ghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have by odd circumstance become Hannibal's protege; often effectively a witness to and willing partner in his crimes. But there is a looming problem. You have many chronic health problems and often become sickly; It is always Hannibal whom watches over you.</p><p>[A Hannibal reader Insert story for all the Hann-fans out there. Please indulge, and eat the rude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver Needle [Hannibal x Reader! Insert]

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old piece originally written as a gift for my Best Friend whom is Hannibal-obsessed - What I like to call a "Hannifan". I am still fond of it despite how rusty it is, and have discovered just how much I enjoy writing reader! insert fics. 
> 
> Hopefully you enjoy it! leave your comments below.  
> A reader insert for your pleasure.

**S** _**ilver** _ **N** _**eedle** _

 

 

 

Hannibal sat quietly at his desk typing away at the laptop calmly. Every so often he would pause to pull away and write information down on a pad situated next to the computer. Other times he would gently lift his cup of dark steaming tea to his lips, taking a delicate sip before setting the gold-rimmed cup back down with a subtle 'clink'.

 

His eyes every so often would chalantly look over the screen to the (h/c)-haired girl sitting across the room, as if keeping an eye on her like a watchful parent. Her form stretched out across the red plush of his vintage therapy chair, humming Bach and pursing her lips in focus; In her hands a needle and thread which she held steady and precise. Every other moment she would push the gleaming metal pinhead through a soft pink garment, stitching it with patient and practiced technique.

 

(y/n) was a unique one. It continuously fascinated Hannibal to the point of near study at times. He found it difficult to fully psychoanalyze or classify her as easily as he did others, and that made her all the more valuable for insight. At this point she just melted into his life and was here to stay – so the only thing left to do was move her in with him. At least, for the time being.

 

There really was no other choice. He wasn't going to kill the girl. She was of too much use and asset now. She was highly intelligent had a mind like his – calculating, careful and indifferent. She knew of most everything: The killings, of Abigail, His manipulation of William.. His own cold and violent behavior seemed to unfaze her.

 

And as for the eating and drinking: his feasting on those who had sinned. The “Rude”. (Y/n) indulged and ate the life of those who would fall at Hannibal's hand. Blood for blood, bone for bone, wine to wine.

 

She had become entangled in his captivating and macabre world. Now his protege. 

 

Hannibal thought back to what life was like a year and a half ago without her. She had just been another Psychology student – nameless within the crowds. And now she had found herself. Here with him.

 

Back to the present, she was here now. With him now in his study. And it all seemed so normal, just he and her.

 

Besides, this big old house could use some more life anyway. He had started to grow weary to coming home every night to a cold, quiet and empty home.

 

He enjoyed his peace and solace, he really did. However, now that she was here there was a noticeably different presence here. The house was flooded with warmth and came alive. He felt an odd sensation of calm driving up to the lot every night and seeing lights on in the windows. Old music muffled, floating from inside.

 

The feeling up his back to behind his ears when he turned his key, pushed open the door and stepped inside to hear that melody of her voice the way it called out the words “You home already?”. It was welcoming, and truly made him feel at home, reminding him of another time; better times long ago.

 

Hannibal shifted his paperwork slightly to find the next column of information. He glanced over to (y/n) across the room but continued to type. His eyes stayed on the young woman as she paused her sewing to cough and clear her chest some, daintily.

 

She cleared her throat and continued, moving the needle in a few more neat loops until all at once she was forced to stop as a more forceful cough made its way up through her chest. This caused Hannibal to stop typing completely, looking over at the girl; training his eyes on her. She had to hunch over to clear her lungs, setting the sewing project to the side.

 

There was a problem that loomed over their lives. (yn) was sickly. She had many chronic health issues, primarily a lung-condition that constantly exhausted her. Hannibal tended to her frequently; making sure she took treatments and kept up with her medications.

Having his history in the medical field was incredibly useful and convenient.

 

Often he restricted her to home or bed-rest to avoid over-working her already weakened systems. She often protested or even disobeyed – brushing off his warnings and worries as nonsensical over-protectiveness.

 

The psychiatrist waited until the fit had passed and she patted her chest hard, sitting up. He sat up straighter and set his pen down flat on the desk slowly. “(y/n)..” he said her name quietly.

 

She perked up intently at her name being called. She straightened herself some. “Yes?” she knew what was coming in the back of her mind.

 

“Did you take your medicine this morning?” he asked quietly, folding his hands on his desk while looking at her calmly.

 

(y/n)'s mouth tugged to the side and she picked up her sewing once more. “Yes..” she said, looping the needle now through the fabric once more. It was his daily question that never failed to pop up.

 

“...hm.” the Therapist hummed in an almost incredulous way, but (y/n) could never call him out on it directly. She swore he took some amusement in that. He looked down at his notes, eyes drifting as they usually did when he was pondering. “And your vitamins?...” he picked up his pad and began lifting up pages boredly, eyes skimming over the notes here and there as he spoke.

 

“Yes.” (y/n) said a third time, trying now to withhold the annoyance in her voice. She had in fact forgotten to take them, but was quick to fib to try and save herself once of his world famous lectures.

 

Without another word, the Lithuanian man rose from his work. He walked around his desk and amongst the room quietly. He walked casually by (y/n), whom put her head down and moved the needle in a more hurried motion to avoid eye contact as she knew what he was doing and where he was going.

 

“god damn it” she thought.

 

He left the room only to return a moment later carrying an empty 1 week med-minder and a couple medium-sized white bottles. (y/n) sunk into the sofa-chair further as he walked past her, lifting the med-minder in an exaggerated manner.

 

“tsk tsk tsk” his trademark noise came from his mouth. “What day is it?” he asked quaintly.

 

The younger criminal Therapist by now was hiding behind her sewing. “Thursday.” she said grudgingly.

 

“Ah yes, where has the week gone?” he asked casually with a smile at the girl as he shook the empty med-minder. “Apparently it was so busy that its been a whole week since you last refilled your vitamins.”

(y/n) twitched visibly.

 

He sighed gently and walked to his water cooler and filled a paper cup with cold water; the sound of the canteen gurgling filled the room. He walked back slowly hovering over the young woman. He opened the two bottles of vitamins and medication, tapping each until he had two white and one brown pills in hand. He slowly kneeled and squatted down so that his taller form was eye-to-eye with her.

 

Slowly (y/n) lowered her sewing to peek out over it at the older man, knowing far by now she had been caught in her fib. He could tell she was bullshitting the first time by the way she had answered him. There were things and quirks her body did that gave her away.

It was cute, actually.

 

He pushed her sewing down and grabbed her hand, placing the pills in her palm while training his eyes on her. “(y/n)...” he sighed quietly. (y/n) sighed as he started.

 

'Here it comes' she thought sarcastically. The 'You need to take care of yourself' talk.

 

“You need to take care of yourself.” he said as if right on cue.

 

“Yes Dr. Lecture, I understand.” she said rolling her eyes and sighing, using her favorite insult for him.

 

He sighed heavily again, bringing the cup of water to her lips making her drink. She took the vitamins and handed the empty cup back to him with a furrowed brow.

 

“If something happens to me...” he began in a serious but quiet tone.

 

At the beginning of that sentence those words filled her with dread, an awful feeling curling in the pit of her stomach. She frowned, looking away from his gaze.

 

“(y/n), look at me...” Hannibal brought his hand up to gently cup her face, pulling her to look him in the eyes. The warmth of his hand was comforting as it spread from his fingers from his skin to hers.

 

“ I know its not something you like to hear.. But if anything, anything at all happens, I need to know you are going to do everything you need to keep healthy and take care of yourself. To keep going. You are my legacy.”

 

(y/n)'s expression completely changed. She studied his face which was solemn and calm, controlled as it always was but she could have swore that for a moment she saw sadness in his eyes. It filled her with guilt and remorse for how she had handled all of his lectures before.

 

He only cared. He wanted to see her live a longer and happier life but also wanted her to flourish. Even if he wasn't there to see to it.

 

“...I'm sorry.” she said quietly after a moment, resting her hands on the sewing in her lap. “I apologize.” They young (e/c)-eyed woman rand a hand through one side of her bangs.

 

“Good” He put on a smile, standing back up. “Please refill your med-minder when you have finished with your sewing.” He looked down at her as she reached for the empty plastic containers.

 

“I'll do it right now.” she smiled warmly and sincerely.

 

“Good girl.” He leaned down to kiss the top of her head gently,

petting her (h/c) strands before walking back to his desk and resuming his previous work.

 

 

End

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
